


follow me home: a pigeon story

by dizzy



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26842003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 25
Kudos: 171





	follow me home: a pigeon story

"Maybe we could just take them both with us," Phil says. 

They're surrounded by half-packed boxes, but Phil's sat on the floor staring out the sliding glass door. He's watching the birds; that's what he seems to do with most of his days now. 

Dan gets it. Sort of. But he'd also really like to get the kitchen packed. 

"We literally cannot," he reminds Phil. 

"But like, we could." 

"They're wild animals." 

"They're socialized!" 

"Socialized and domesticated are not the same thing," Dan says. He gives up the packing and sits down on the chair. His fingers itch to do the mindless swipe of social media but he pulls up a sudoku game instead. His zen will not be fucked with today, thank you very much, world. "Just because humans have infiltrated their natural world and they've had to adapt to that intrusion doesn't mean they're our pets." 

"But... Steve loves me." Phil's voice is turning petulant. 

"Steve loves food." 

"And me." The petulance gives way to something else, a more vulnerable thread. "I saved him." 

Dan pauses. "Yeah," he says. "You did." 

-

They're not taking the birds, of course. 

"But we can get a dog now," Dan reminds him. 

"I thought a dog was so much commitment?" Phil casually tosses Dan's words from a few nights before into his face. 

He really does want to take those damn birds. Dan knows that Phil knows they can't. But he still wants to, and this could turn into another fight if they don't both tread carefully. 

He reminds himself that even if it does turn into more sincere bickering, that's alright. That's healthy. Their tensions are high. They're making a lot of life changes. It's a period of transition. 

So he just agrees, "It is. It's scary."

"Steve's not scary." Phil lies back on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. "We know him. He just needs a bit of seed and he's happy as can be." 

"Yeah, but Steve can't sleep at the foot of our bed," Dan points out, then immediately shuts down Phil's barely-started response with, "No, he absolutely cannot, that wasn't a question." 

Phil laughs at that. "Yeah. You're right. A dog that sleeps with us will be nice."

Dan looks up from his game and over at Phil. His eyes are closed and the sun is hitting him and he looks long and pretty all stretched out like that. "I like you," Dan says, because sometimes his truth just needs to be spoken out loud. "Just so you know." 

Phil smiles without opening his eyes. "I like you, too." 

-

"Maybe I'll just leave a note," Phil says. 

There's a pizza demolished in front of them. Dan feels pleasantly full and ready to waste his mind away on some television until it's time to sleep. 

"For the cleaner?" Dan asks. "I emailed them everything they should know." 

"No, for whoever lives here next," Phil says. "About Steve and Scrags." 

Dan bites back the _this again_? that threatens on the tip of his tongue. "Telling them what? Pigeons like seed?" 

"That Steve is an internet celebrity pigeon," Phil says, like it's the most natural thing in the world. "That he's special." 

"Every other pigeon in London just joined a coalition to all shit on your head for your callous dismissal of them." 

"They're just jealous they're not Steve," Phil says. 

"Uh huh. Sure, bub. Whatever you say." 

"Anyway, I think I'm going to leave a note. And a bag of seed too, maybe?" 

"The landlord will probably just remove them." 

"Oh." Phil's face falls. "Damnit." 

"Phil." Dan reaches out and pats Phil on the thigh. "He's gonna be fine. I promise. He and Scraggy will both be fine." 

"Won't you miss him?" Phil asks, turning his head toward Dan. His hair is flopping into his face a bit and it's unfairly cute. 

Dan reaches out and pushes that would-be fringe back off his forehead with one fingertip. "Of course," he says. "We put a lot of time and effort into Steve. He's comfortable and familiar and in this fucked up shitstain of a year that's been nice." 

Phil's lips flatten a bit. "Yeah." 

"And it's scary to just like, fucking leave, you know? It's scary to do anything right now." 

"He knows where his food is," Phil says. "He comes there every day looking for it. I keep imagining the day he comes and there's no food. What if he hops around in front of the window? You know how he likes to do. He'll look in and everything will just be empty. He won't know where we've gone, and he'll be hungry." 

"Phil." Dan reaches out and hooks an arm around Phil's shoulder, drawing him in. He kisses Phil's temple. "I promise you, Steve won't starve. There are loads of other people in this building alone that put food out for the birds. He'll find another pair of saps to leech food and medical care off of." 

"But we won't love them as much as he loves us," Phil insists. 

Dan huffs out a quiet laugh. "You're absolutely ridiculous." 

"Just say it's true." 

"Fine," Dan says. "Steve the Pigeon will never love another human the way he loves you." 

Phil slumps with his weight on Dan. "Thank you." 

"And I'm making you a therapy appointment tomorrow. We need to work on your quarantine-enhanced attachment issues." 

"Dunno what you're talking about," Phil says, wrapping his arms tight around Dan. "I don't have attachment issues." 

"You nearly teared up when I mentioned we could probably leave Big Duck behind." 

Phil's head shoots up. "Big Duck is an institution in our bathroom!" 

"I'm just saying. Maybe barely leaving this flat for the majority of this year has had some psychological effect on you. There's no shame in it- oi!" Dan tries to squirm away from Phil's suddenly wiggling fingers. 

"You know the rule," Phil says. "You try to therapy me, you get the tickle fingers." 

Dan clicks his teeth at Phil like he's trying to bite him. "You absolute monster, I'm just being a supportive partner!" 

"I'll supportive partner you." Phil shoves at Dan again before immediately drawing him back in. 

-

Dan's so tired of packing. 

They could definitely hire someone to do most of this for them, but they both reached a mutual understanding that they had fuck all better to do and didn't want to risk anyone being in their space (even for the short amount of time it remains their space). 

So life for the past couple of weeks has been a constant cycle of charity shop drop offs and clothing try ons and cardboard boxes. 

He's not surprised when they run out of packing tape. He's not even entirely unhappy about it. He embraces the chance to get out and stretch his legs on the walk to fetch some more, and yeah - maybe he lingers a bit. But it's a nice day, and who can really blame him? 

He can hear Phil on the phone in the bedroom when he comes back in. That's not a surprise. He's on facetime with his mum more days than not lately, a symptom of the ever-increasing anxiety he feels around not being able to see his parents. 

Dan leaves him to it and goes back upstairs. The game shelf is next on the agenda and he starts with the ones he knows they won't be getting rid of. He's trying to fit a Catan expansion in beside Tokaido when he hears a tapping on the glass. 

He turns and sees Steve there, tilting his head quizzically. 

Dan sighs. "What, did your human slave not feed you?" 

Steve lets out a coo. 

Dan thinks about just ignoring him. It's probably best to break him of the food habit now, to up the amount of weaning they've been doing over the past couple months. 

But Steve coos again and does a little hop and Dan sighs. "Fine," he says. "But just a bit." 

Steve flies up to the railing when Dan opens the door. His beady little eyes don't break gaze the entire time it takes for Dan to get a handful of seed out and scatter it in the feeder. 

He's barely taken a couple of steps back when Steve is flapping his wings and landing on the ledge of the bowl. He coos again and starts to jab his beak at the seed, eating as he always does - quickly and greedily. 

Dan stands and watches him for a moment. "Do you know how lucky you are?" He asks. "That Phil decided you of all pigeons were the one he was going to fawn over. Literally you could murder a man on his doorstep and he'd be like, well, Steve had his reasons, he's a good pidge." 

Steve is unmoved by Dan's speech. 

"Look," Dan says. "We're not taking you with us. You and Scraggy probably have little pigeon babies already or something. We're not breaking apart a pigeon family just to make my boyfriend happy." 

Steve finishes the seed Dan put down for him and immediately looks up at Dan like he's wondering where the rest of his meal is. 

"Nope," Dan says. "Diner's closed." 

Steve trills impatiently. 

"And I have to get back to packing," Dan says. 

Steve doesn't move. 

Dan takes a step back, then hesitates. "Don't you fucking dare tell Phil I said this, but like. If you want to follow us... we can't really stop you. And it wouldn't be the worst thing ever. You can just coincidentally show up at the new place. I'm sure Scraggy wouldn't mind the change in scenery."

Steve flaps his wings. He lands briefly on the railing again, then flies away. 

Dan watches after him and shrugs. "I tried." 

-

"Maybe we can just get a different kind of bird," Phil says. 

Dan sighs. It's after two in the morning. The sweat has barely cooled on their skin. He really just wants to sleep. "Phil. If in a year, after we have a dog, you still miss Steve, then yes. We can get a bird." 

Phil shoots up right. "Really? Are you just saying that because of the orgasm?"

"Probably," Dan says. "But you can still hold me to it." 

Phil leans over and kisses Dan right on the cheek, hilariously at odds with how they've both still got their dicks out. "You're the best." 

"Wow," Dan says. "How quickly Steve is replaced in your hearts." 

"Shut up," Phil says. "It's not going to replace Steve. Nothing could ever replace Steve. But it'll be nice anyway. Maybe I can just rescue another pigeon. Steve's strong now, he deserves to live a good life. Maybe I can rescue loads of pigeons..." 

"Mhm." Dan yawns. He's far too sleepy to keep following this wild train of thought Phil's on. "After a dog." 

"After a dog," Phil agrees, cuddling back in against Dan. "I'll live my pigeon rescuer dreams. In Steve's honour!" 

"Mmm." Dan's eyes drop shut. "You do that."


End file.
